Horace, creator; Conington, John, 1825-1869, editor

  • Black day he chose for planting thee,
  • Accurst he rear'd thee from the ground,
  • The bane of children yet to be,
  • The scandal of the village round.
  • His father's throat the monster press'd
  • Beside, and on his hearthstone spilt,
  • I ween, the blood of midnight guest;
  • Black Colchian drugs, whate'er of guilt
  • Is hatch'd on earth, he dealt in all—
  • Who planted in my rural stead
  • Thee, fatal wood, thee, sure to fall
  • Upon thy blameless master's head.
  • The dangers of the hour! no thought
  • We give them; Punic seaman's fear
  • Is all of Bosporus, nor aught
  • Reeks he of pitfalls otherwhere;
  • The soldier fears the mask'd retreat
  • Of Parthia; Parthia dreads the thrall
  • Of Rome; but Death with noiseless feet
  • Has stolen and will steal on all.